


A Heavy Crown

by Trappola



Category: Twisted-Wonderland (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Depression, Gen, M/M, Overblot (Twisted-Wonderland)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-17
Updated: 2020-10-17
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:54:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27054511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trappola/pseuds/Trappola
Summary: Riddle's dealing with the aftershocks of his Overblot months later. However, he still hasn't dealt with his depression in a healthy manner and things begin to go wrong as he begins losing stablity.He learns a valuable lesson: having Overblotted once does not guarantee you will never Overblot again.
Relationships: Trey Clover/Jade Leech
Comments: 11
Kudos: 61





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For those of you who follow me on twitter (@trappola_writes) who voted in my poll, this is what you saved from going in The Taste of Ink lmao.

Doubt is a seed. Once it’s planted in the mind, it grows, planting roots in places you never thought possible. 

Ace, although a pain, was far more inquisitive than he had initially given him credit for. Oftentimes, he’d ask Riddle about things he had heard from the fourth years who had graduated before he got there, hoping to hear stories they had told him about his brother. He’d known a few—in fact, from what he’d heard, they two seemed very similar. But this line of questioning had moved beyond the normal scope of questioning.

“So. You and Trey.” 

Riddle took a sip of his tea. “What about us?”

“You’ve been friends for a while, right? Has he always been so…” His voice trailed off, probably in a direction he didn’t think Trey’s best friend would want to hear. The dorm leader didn’t press the issue.

“Just because I’ve known him for a long time doesn’t mean we were good friends until I enrolled here.”

“Good friends?” The first-year scoffed.

Blue eyes narrowed at the other, uncertain as to his meaning. “What do you mean, Trappola?” His voice came out harsher than he intended, but a strange defensiveness of him and his best friend’s friendship grew inside of him. 

Ace raised his hands up defensively, stumbling over his words. “A-Ah, nevermind, prefect! I didn’t mean anything by it.”

“It’s not a problem.” Riddle set his teacup down in his saucer. “You may continue.” 

The younger of the two shifted uncomfortably in his seat, fiddling with the piece of pie Trey had so graciously converted to cherry flavor before he had run off to meet with Jade. “Ah...I just said some mean things to him before you Overblotted. It kind of rubbed me the wrong way.”

Riddle’s brows knit tightly together. He hadn’t heard anything from either of his students before this and it had been over six months since he had Overblotted.  _ I’m sure Trey just didn’t want to worry me _ . “What did you say to him?”

A dry laugh escaped Ace’s lips, suddenly unable to meet the dorm leader’s gaze. “I said it was his fault you Overblotted.” 

The confusion only grew. “Why would you have thought that?”

“He just babied you all the time so that he didn’t have to deal with you. It didn’t help the situation at all. Spoiling you like he did wasn’t gonna make you any better and he didn’t even do anything about you alienating yourself. I thought that was a pretty manipulative thing to do.” The younger student paused, lips pressing into a fine line. Riddle could tell that the other knew he shouldn’t have been saying this—that this was an unspoken secret that the two of them had decided would be best for him not to hear. “I even said he didn’t sound like much of a friend to you at all. Kinda surprised he even still talked to me after that one. I guess he can be a pretty cool guy sometimes, at least.”

Riddle mulled the words over in his mind.  _ I even said he didn’t sound like much of a friend to you at all _ . The smaller of the two stood from his seat in the gardens, grabbing the tray the remainder of his own strawberry-tart-flavored pie was on. “I’m afraid I should get going.”

The first-year stiffened slightly, once again afraid that he’d done something wrong. “I-I mean—!” The prefect held out a gloved hand to silence him.

“I’m not leaving because of what you’re saying. I have other matters to attend to and you do as well. Or have you forgotten you’re to feed the hedgehogs today?” 

Ace’s panicked expression fell and what replaced it caught the older of the two off guard. Remorse, maybe. Guilt? Riddle’s lips pressed into a fine line as he tried to analyze it, though he couldn’t think of anything more that would help assuage whatever feeling was plaguing him aside from him insisting that it really didn’t matter. Instead, the boy just nodded before turning, his heel clicking against the stone pathway as he moved back into the dorm.

The truth was, he didn’t  _ really  _ have anything else to do. It was simply a conversation that didn’t sit right within him, making him want to remove himself from the situation. It wasn’t Ace’s fault by any stretch of the means—he’d asked, after all. Riddle placed his dishes in the kitchen before retreating to his bedroom, hoping for some quality quiet time to study.

However, when he sat down with the papers in front of him, his mind kept repeating the words Ace had told him.  _ He didn’t do anything about you alienating yourself _ . Riddle tapped his pen against his notebook.  _ I thought that was a pretty manipulative thing to do _ . A gloved hand ran through his hair, letting out an audible sigh.  _ He didn’t sound like much of a friend to you at all _ . 

Riddle slammed his magic pen down on the notebook, aggravated at himself for letting the words bury themselves under his skin. Of course Trey was a good friend—he’d been there for him since they were children.  _ Is that true though?  _ The voice sounded similar to his, but something was off about it—a distortion that he couldn’t quite place. Lips pressed into a fine line, physically shaking the sensation from his body.

Of course it was true. If it weren’t for Trey and Che’nya, he wasn’t sure where he would be. The child that they had met’s life was changed forever when they ushered him out of the confines of his home. And this time, a voice wholly his own spoke out.  _ Then where’s Trey now?  _

Trey had started dating Jade Leech, much to the prefect’s disapproval. Not that he had any ill will towards Jade himself, and he respected him in a lot of ways despite his impressive ability to manipulate those around him, but because that had opened up the door for his rambunctious brother to start spending more time around Heartslabyul. That thought gave him pause.  _ Impressive ability to manipulate those around him _ . He himself had helped Trey realize that Jade was far from the innocent vice leader that he sometimes seemed. In fact, he was probably arguably more terrifying than the eel he  _ actively  _ avoided. So why would Trey want to surround himself with someone like that? Wouldn’t knowing someone was manipulative naturally drive a wedge between the two of you that could never be undone?

Riddle let out a dry laugh, piling the papers once more. He supposed he couldn’t  _ really  _ judge their relationship. He’d never thought about even attempting to pursue such a needless sort of relationship. It was far too distracting from his studies. And besides—what options would he even have? Trey? Che’nya? Even after his Overblot, people weren’t exactly breaking down doors to try and give him a second chance. He’d hurt so many people. No matter how hard he tried, finding the right way to convey just how sorry he was never seemed to work out in his favor. Nowadays, more often than not, he was alone.

Sure, he’d often speak with the first-years about whatever topics seemed to please them—usually about school or life around campus, but he’d hardly call them friends. Riddle was supposed to be their mentor, someone that they looked up to. Someone who kept them in line when they did something  _ wrong _ . Even with some of those around him, if they broke even the slightest rule, he’d see them flinch under his gaze.  _ I don’t care!  _ He’d scream inside of his head. While that certainly wasn’t the case for  _ all  _ rules, he’d grown to like the white roses in the garden. He didn’t care about how clean you kept your own space (though he would certainly judge you for it). He didn’t care that the hoops for croquet weren’t checked at precisely 5:30 every morning to make sure they hadn’t fallen over in the middle of the night. Yet people still stared at him as a tyrant.

No—maybe not a tyrant anymore. Not to the people who saw him change. Instead, they probably saw the manifestation of his pain. 

The redhead pulled his phone out of his pants pocket, quickly scrolling to get to his text thread with Trey.  _ Unanswered. Unanswered. Short reply. Unanswered _ . He knew he couldn’t really blame him for having a life outside of him. He was better now. He had the  _ potential  _ to make friends. And perhaps a little too late, he was learning that what he didn’t have was the skill to. Riddle had been optimistic at first. With Heartslabyul holding his hand, he thought maybe there’d be a chance for him to make a life of his own. But then Ace and Deuce were too busy chasing the other first years. Trey had developed an interest in that eel. And Cater—well, Cater had his own problems to work through. But he’d be strong. Riddle would do what he did best—he’d be strong and rely on himself to get the job done.  _ But that didn’t work the first time. Why should it be any different now?  _

Blue eyes stared down at the sad excuse for a text message exchange. He took a deep breath, typing some words on the keyboard without any real hope of a reply.

_ Are you coming home tonight?  _

He moved to place the phone facedown on the desk, propping his chin in his hand as he half-heartedly flipped through his homework once more. Riddle nearly jumped at the quick buzzing of his phone and there was a moment of pure confusion before he picked it up, revealing Trey’s name. A hint of a smile formed upon his lips as he unlocked the phone, only to be dashed away.

_ Probably not. Everything okay? _

The prefect let out a sigh and set his phone down, not even bothering to reply.  _ He didn’t sound like much of a good friend to you at all _ . The boy rubbed at his face, feeling like an idiot for letting those words take hold of him so tightly. His body felt heavier than normal under the weight of Ace’s words and the prefect stood from his seat at the desk and he moved to draw the curtains closed, hoping that the darkness would bring him calm. Riddle dragged his feet as he moved towards his bed, plopping down face first onto the plush blankets, careful to keep his shoes hanging off the bed lest he break one of the Queen’s rules.

_ Her rules? Or mine?  _ Sometimes those lines seemed to blur as time passed. His mother had drilled him on them so hard since he was a child. He’d wake up at sunrise, and like the good little son he was, stay there pouring over his books until she returned from the clinic well after sundown. Fingers curled around the blankets, blinking back tears of memories he tried so hard to push away. How awful he’d felt when his mom had punished him for leaving with Trey and Che’nya. How awful he felt that they didn’t keep coming back for him. There were times when he’d gather the courage to tear himself from the table, staring out the window hoping to get a glance of them walking by, hoping for the same. Days past, then months, and even years. Sometimes he’d try to tell himself he’d simply just made them up in a desperate attempt for change, but that never stuck. Sometimes his mother would complain about the bakery and his ears would perk up, hoping for just the slightest mention of his friends. 

_ Why didn’t they come back?  _ That distorted voice came to his mind once again, causing him to physically cover his ears and close his eyes in a vain attempt to block it out. 

Even at Night Raven College, he didn’t know what to feel when his eyes met Trey’s. Fear had been his initial reaction. He could hear his mom scolding inside of his mind.  _ He’s not a good kid _ . She’d told him.  _ Don’t get distracted _ . But he’d looked so relieved to see him—happy, even. There was no way that he had just been pretending to be his friend.  _ But I wasn’t prefect then.  _

Tears began to spill from his eyes, though he was amazed at just how  _ numb  _ he felt. A wracking cough forced him to sit up, a bitter bile threatening to come up. Brows furrowed slightly as he caught his breath, a hand clinging to the fabric of his shirt as he tried to shake off a separate uneasiness that was making its way into his bones. 

* * *

He must have fallen asleep. He awoke curled up on his bed, shoes be damned, in the early hours of the morning. Shuffling could be heard downstairs and the small boy tentatively made his way to the door, opening it a crack to try to hear the voice of whoever it might have been. The clangs of kitchenware drifted towards him and blue eyes widened slightly as Riddle rushed down the stairs.

The boy stopped abruptly in the kitchen, almost in shock that Trey was standing there. It was a silly notion, of course—this was his home, not Octavinelle. But after everything that his mind went through, he needed some time with him to feel less alone. Yellow eyes blinked back towards him with an equal amount of surprise. “I didn’t expect you to be up this early.”

“Do you want to hang out today?” Riddle blurted out, a desperation rising in him that he hadn’t expected. He didn’t know how to tell the other that he needed some validation, that he was doing okay and that he’d make friends. It was hard, it was an adjustment period. That the boy standing in front of him was still there for him even after he’d relaxed his rules as the Heartslabyul dorm leader. 

“I promised Jade I’d help him in the lounge.” Trey offered him an apologetic smile. “We can study after if you’d like.” The ginger pursed his lips together, shifting from one foot to the other uncomfortably. He didn’t  _ want  _ to study. He  _ wanted  _ to shake this awful feeling growing inside of him by just...being a teenager with his best friend.

“Are you planning on staying over there again tonight?”

“I don’t know.” Trey shrugged slightly.

Then, an idea. “You know rule 752 strictly prohibits sleeping outside of one’s own bed for more than two days a week.” Really, it didn’t have a strict limit and he  _ knew  _ he was being silly for even trying to make it seem as if it was just a rule he hadn’t had the need to enforce before, but the anxiety began to manifest in his throat, threatening to choke him if he didn’t do something drastic.

Trey raised a brow at the smaller of the two, turning away from the dishes he had been doing to fully face him. Hands rested on the island between them and the green haired boy’s face contorted into a disappointed expression. “That’s not a rule.”

“It is.” Riddle crossed his arms over his chest and straightened himself, trying desperately to look his normal, confident self.

“Really.” It wasn’t a question. “How come you never enforced that when the first-years were staying at Ramshackle?”

Something pierced through the dorm leader’s heart, though he tried not to show just how shaken he was by the statement. “They had reasons.”

“And I don’t?” One of the older boy’s fingers tapped against the marble countertop, the other hand squeezing tightly. “If you’re jealous you can just say that, Riddle.” The words came like a punch to the gut. He’d never heard Trey speak to him with such annoyance, such  _ anger _ as he did now. 

“I’m  _ not  _ jealous.” Not  _ romantically _ , anyways. “What an asinine thing to say.”

“ _ Asinine?  _ Not  _ once  _ in the time of you being Prefect have you  _ ever  _ enforced that rule.”

“There’s exceptions to every rule!” He could feel the warmth spreading across his cheeks, fingers twitching slightly at the urge to reach for his pen to collar him for insubordination.

“The old Riddle would never have said that.” Yellow eyes glanced down towards Riddle’s hands. “And you  _ know  _ I’m right. You’re just doing this because you’re jealous I’m spending time with Jade.”

“That’s not—”

“It  _ is _ !” It was the first time Trey had ever yelled at him. The redhead jumped slightly in surprise, tears almost immediately stinging at his eyes. He blinked rapidly, trying to force them back, hoping that the other wouldn’t have noticed. “You can’t stand that my life doesn’t revolve around you anymore!” 

Now that one  _ wasn’t  _ true. The anger was growing inside of him and he found himself tapping his foot, his body trying to force itself from its natural state of relying on his unique magic when he’s angry. “You are treading on thin ice, Trey.” The words came through clenched teeth, now unable to even  _ attempt  _ hiding how annoyed he was.

His best friend scoffed, pushing himself off of the island. “I don’t care.” Without another word, the third-year moved around the island to grab his school bag and stormed off. Riddle could hear the distant sound of the front door opening, then a rough slam to remind him that the Trey who’d once been so careful about his feelings was gone.

But wasn’t that  _ supposed  _ to be a good thing? Riddle leaned against the counter, burying his face in his hands as his eyes began to well up once more. Even when he had  _ tried  _ to explain, the other just stormed off without even listening. At least before he had Overblot, his best friend would always be there to ask what was wrong and would listen with a keen ear. Sometimes he’d even managed to ward off entire tantrums just by that small gesture. 

“Riddle...?”

The redhead wiped at his eyes before standing up straight, though he couldn’t will the tears away. “I didn’t expect you to be up this early, Trappola.” His voice faltered slightly, though he hoped the other hadn’t noticed.

“I heard yelling.” The first-year sounded uneasy. “Is...everything alright?”

Riddle didn’t dare turn around to face the other. He didn’t want to admit that maybe Ace had been right—him and Trey weren’t nearly as good of friends as he had originally thought. Maybe he’d even been right that they  _ weren’t  _ friends. He wiped at his wet cheeks, trying to keep himself from shaking in front of the other as that thought really seeped into his mind. “Everything’s fine.” His words were short and the boy found himself walking back towards his room, hoping that the other wouldn’t press for more answers. And to both his delight and disappointment, Ace didn’t call after him.

Upon returning to his room, the prefect leaned against his closed door, sliding down slowly until he was curled up on the floor. Now that he was in the safety of his own room, his body began to heave as he began to sob. The distorted voice came to him once more, this time more welcome than it had been before.  _ This is your fault. You chase everyone away. They’d probably preferred if you had died from Overblot _ . 

He didn’t have the energy to fight it. Instead, he could only focus on the fact that perhaps it was right. He’d never seen Trey so angry. And it  _ was  _ his fault. Nails dug into the floor as he pondered the last statement:  _ They’d probably preferred if you had died from Overblot _ . And even that, he realized, was probably true. Without him, there’d be no rules. Less stress. No one to coddle. No one to  _ abandon _ . 

Riddle leaned his head back from the door, feeling oddly calmed by the realization. His breathing began to slow, though the tears still rolled down his cheeks.  _ No _ . He realized. It wasn’t a calmness—his whole body felt numb. He didn’t even realize it when he had stood up. When he’d stripped off his pajamas. Even the finishing touch of the bow on his uniform. 

Blue eyes glanced in the mirror, taking note how puffy his eyes looked from crying. He wiped at them, knowing full well it wouldn’t help. Though as he looked at his face in a more broad manner, he noticed just how  _ sick  _ he looked. His skin was even more pale than usual. The tears had caused a redness lingering under his eyes. And really, there seemed to be very little energy  _ in  _ his eyes. He supposed that was fair—he wasn’t feeling particularly energetic. But still, it seemed like a ghost of the boy who was laughing at the Unbirthday Party. He couldn’t even remember when the last time he laughed  _ was _ . 

* * *

“Riddle?” The boy blinked a couple times, realizing he had been spacing out. He glanced towards Jade, a smile curled on his lips. “Did you hear Professor Crewel? We’re partnering today for alchemy.”

“Ah—” Riddle straightened himself for a moment before standing up. “Sorry, I’ve just been a little out of it today.” He wanted to curse Crewel for partnering him with Jade of all people. Not today after his fight with Trey, but he’d grin and bare it. It wasn’t as if he  _ disliked  _ Jade, either. They got along perfectly well, though he didn’t exactly trust either of the Leech twins. 

“Oya, oya~ Because of your fight with Trey?”  _ Must you tell him everything, Trey?  _ Riddle wanted to curse, though he just nodded in response. The two walked towards the cauldron assigned to them and his eyes glanced over the different ingredients they were supposed to use, making a mental note of each one as he tried to recall which came first. However, his mind was drawing a blank on some of the steps. “Eye of newt.” Jade offered, pointing towards one of the bottles in the middle. “This certainly  _ isn’t  _ like you.”

“I know—I just…” He sighed. “I don’t know, I guess I’m feeling a little off today.”

“Well, you and Trey  _ are  _ good friends, I suppose that’s natural.”

“Are we?” Riddle let out a dry laugh. Mismatched eyes blinked at him a couple times, though his lips curled into a smile.

“I suppose that’s a fair question.” The eel stated, grabbing onto the giant stick they used to stir the cauldron. “Though if I may offer a suggestion?”

“Of course.” Riddle said, grabbing the second ingredient to pour in.

“I would suggest staying out of Trey’s relationship with me.” Riddle felt a shiver run up his spine, the other’s words unnaturally smooth as the thinly-veiled threat reached his ears. “He was  _ quite  _ upset today. To the point he was considering breaking up, but I assured him I’d talk with you about it.” The redhead glanced towards the other, taking in his oddly calm expression. “If you value Trey’s happiness, it would be in your best interest to stay away. Am I making myself clear?”

He wanted to cry, though he took some deep breaths to try to keep the tears at bay.  _ If you hadn’t lost your friend earlier, you certainly have now.  _ The distorted voice taunted, though he tried to push it to the back of his mind. Not because it was wrong, but because he didn’t want to think too much about it. If he kept thinking it over, he’d cry. If he cried in class, he’d be mortified. Instead, Riddle just nodded a couple times. 

“Perfect. Now would you grab the nightshade?”

* * *

The rest of the day had been a blur. He remembered going to lunch, only to see the first-years goofing off. Cater was with Trey at the table Octavinelle frequented. Blue eyes had searched the tables for anyone willing to have him at their table, but found that he didn’t think  _ anyone  _ would. 

So he’d eaten alone. And he studied alone. And walked home alone.

And the first thing he did when he got back to the dorm was lock himself in his room. Alone. The boy kicked off his shoes as soon as he laid face-first on the bed, allowing them to fall on the otherwise clean floor. Riddle realized just how  _ tired  _ he was. Not only physically, but mentally as well. He was tired of studying. Of being alone. Of not knowing how to reach out to people. He was losing the only support system he’d have and he was just making it worse.

_ They don’t want you anymore _ . There was no distortion—no unwanted voice inside of his head. Just him.  _ You’re just a burden to everyone around you.  _ The tears came once again, trailing down his face to land on the gentle pillow beneath him. Trey wasn’t coming back. Maybe physically, but he was certain they would never be friends again. He was the annoying little kid that he’d played together. The boy who was too spoiled to have the rules broken without succumbing to Overblot. They had never  _ been  _ friends. 

He placed his phone face-up on the blanket, blue eyes staring at it for what seemed like an eternity. Even with these thoughts, he still wanted  _ someone  _ to reach out. Someone to call him and tell him that they loved him. Platonically. Romantically. He’d even have been happy with his mother or father reaching out. But no one did. 

Even when he woke up the next morning, still exhausted from the crying, there were no missed phone calls. He groaned slightly, annoyed once again that he’d fallen asleep above the covers. He curled underneath them, still in his uniform, staring out the window.

It was bright out. He’d even guess that he would have been running late if he bothered to check the time, but he didn’t. Riddle simply stared out the window.  _ No one would even notice you were gone _ . He could hear the ticking of the clock above his doorway.  _ Probably not even the professors.  _ He pulled the cover over his head, relishing in the darkness. 

_ I wish I was dead _ .

He grabbed his phone, only slightly surprised to see hours had passed since he had first woken up. It was lunchtime and he scrolled through the contacts, unwilling to wait for the off-chance that someone would call him. ACE. DEUCE. DO NOT PICK UP. CHE’NYA. He finally settled on Che’nya, bringing the phone to his ear as he listened to it ring.  _ One. Two. Three. Four. Five.  _ Five rings, then the familiar voice of Che’nya telling him to leave a message. Or not.

“Che’nya—” He paused for a moment, trying to think of what he’d say.  _ I just wanted to hear your voice? I miss you?  _ None of that really conveyed the selfish things he wanted to hear. “Nevermind. I’ll talk to you later.”

The prefect continued scrolling, finally landing on Trey. Once again, it went to voicemail. He couldn’t say he was  _ surprised  _ at that. Riddle sat up in his bed, placing his phone on the bedside table. He stood up, tempted to try to force some food down before a horrible cough racked at his body, forcing him to fall to his knees. He brought a hand to his mouth, doubling over in pain until he felt some warm liquid spit out onto his hand.

Blue eyes glanced down at it, widening as he took in the familiar black liquid. “No, no, no.” He pulled the pen from his pocket, but he could already hear the distortion of his voice. The one that had been mocking him for the past few days. A piece of him that had never quite recovered from Overblot. “ _ No!”  _

As he screamed out, the surroundings of his room changed. The boy sobbed, clenching the magical pen tightly in his gloved hands as he covered his face. “They hate me. They all hate me.” The words were obscured by his sobs, but it didn’t matter. His heart had blackened once more from his depression.

The door swung open and without thinking, the Overblotted boy sent a wind magic to close it once more. “Riddle!” Someone yelled from behind the door until the magic stopped.

“Leave me alone!” He screamed back.

The door swung open once more and he finally glanced up, taking note of how decayed his room looked. His eyes finally settled on Ace, with Deuce right behind him.

“Deuce, get help.” The ginger said quickly. 

“But—”

“ _ Now! _ ”

“I said  _ leave me alone!”  _ Riddle screamed once more, shooting more wind magic to try to push the boy out of the doorway. His hands gripped onto the frame, keeping him centered.

“Like hell I will!” The first-year tried to take a couple steps forward, though he slipped and fell as the magic just continued. “Riddle,  _ stop! _ ”

The redhead shook his head, curling up as best he could with the restriction of his corset. “ _ No! _ ” He yelled. “I’m sick of all of you pretending to be my friend!” Another burst of wind magic. He just wanted them  _ gone _ . He didn’t want to hurt them. Still, he could see the other’s uniform tearing at the wind, a sharp cut opening on his cheek. “Just  _ leave! _ ”

“Riddle, you  _ know  _ that’s not true!” Ace yelled back. 

“Shut  _ up! _ ” Another gust, stronger this time.

“You have to  _ stop! _ ” This time he had his own magic pen ready. Riddle knew it was too late. He could already feel the tightening of his chest. Black liquid bubbled up, creating a bitter taste in his mouth. He coughed once more, the liquid spilling out onto the blankets of his distorted reality. Red eyes widened at the sight, though he sent a ball of fire magic towards the boy on the floor.

It stung, but he was still a first year. A first year on his own. He switched his magic, the last bit of energy he could muster. Shards of ice struck Ace and he winced, stumbling back a little now that the wind had subsided.

Riddle clawed at his throat, the ink now pouring from his lips. He found himself gasping for breath, though only the bitter liquid filled his lungs. He wondered for a moment how pathetic he looked. Ace ran up towards him, placing hands on either shoulder as he shook the smaller boy. “Riddle, you’re gonna be okay. You’re gonna be—”

Ace was panicking, but even though he could feel himself dying, Riddle felt a strange sense of calm. Blue eyes stared up at the other boy, his vision blurring and obscuring his features. He wasn’t even sure if he was crying or if it was ink running down his cheeks. He wanted to scold the other, to tell first-year to stop pitying him, but the words bubbled in the liquid. Ace yelled something, though all he could hear was a muffled noise. 

Riddle leaned against him and closed his eyes.


	2. Ace

Red and blue lights flickered in his peripheral, eyes staring straight ahead of him as he gripped the blanket tighter around him. Deuce sat next to him on the edge of the ambulance, also silent, though he was grateful for the feeling of their arms touching ever so slightly. He needed someone after that. Someone  _ real  _ to ground him back to this world. 

Deuce had come in a few minutes after. Riddle was still in his arms and he could feel the ink seeping through the fabric of his uniform. Crowley came in just a couple seconds after. And then they called the ambulance. He knew this was his fault. All of those things he said—it was because  _ he  _ put the idea that Trey wasn’t his friend into his mind. A part of him wanted to scream, to curse at the prefect for not talking to him.  _ He  _ had considered Riddle his friend. Why couldn’t he have done the same?

“Ace! Deuce!” He glanced in the direction of the voice, seeing Trey running over. “What happened?!”

“We came back to the dorm for lunch.” Deuce tried to explain, shaking his head. “We heard Riddle…” His voice trailed off.

“Riddle? What happened to Riddle?!”

Ace nodded towards the entrance of the dorm as the door swung open, a gurney with a black bag coming out of it. Trey was slow to turn around, obviously dreading the potential tragedy that had occured. He couldn’t even see the ginger’s ink-stained clothes underneath the blanket.  _ It’s my fault. He was saying all those things, it’s because I put it in his head. I should have known. I should have paid more attention _ . 

Trey’s knees buckled underneath him, catching himself on the side of the ambulance the two first-years were sitting in. “No.  _ No _ .” His hands gripped the metal tightly. “I was just—I was just coming to check on him. Jade said he wasn’t in…” The oldest shook his head, voice cracking. “ _ How? _ ”

“Overblot.” Ace’s voice was flat, though he opened his blanket to show the mess. Yellow eyes moved to take it in and he couldn’t help but notice the tears welling up. He didn’t know if he should tell them he had accidentally made an already depressed boy so depressed it had tainted him. That the magical component of Overblot was used trying to force him out of his room.

He’d essentially killed Riddle Rosehearts. 

“It’s my fault.” He finally did manage to get out. “I didn’t mean to—” Ace cut himself off, feeling the tears stinging at his own eyes for the first time.

“What do you mean?” Trey asked, his voice having more of a sharp edge to it.

“I was—I was talking about our fight when he first Overblotted. He started acting strange after. I should have…”

“...and then I got mad at him.”

“I didn’t know he was feeling so isolated—I didn’t…” He could see the pained expression as Riddle cried, his tears diluting the ink on his face. It wasn’t a secret that the Heartslabyul prefect had been depressed. With his overbearing mother, his lack of social skills, and his need to be perfect  _ all the time,  _ he should have been more careful with his words.

“It’s not your fault.” Trey finally said, though his voice sounded hollow. Deuce rested his head on Ace’s shoulder in an attempt to comfort him. He didn’t deserve this. 

Red eyes watched as they loaded the gurney into the back of the ambulance. The first-year stood up, dragging his feet a little as he walked towards it. “I’m going to ride with him.” He wasn’t ready to accept that Riddle was gone. So he’d ride with him, and pray that he woke up.

* * *

The school had gotten the day off to attend his funeral. Crowley said that anyone who wanted to attend was free to without penalty. Him and Deuce had gone out to buy something appropriate to wear—neither of them had expected to attend a funeral while at Night Raven College. Deuce’s mother had even insisted on coming to check on them, but they both insisted that it was alright. Even his brother had called, the news of his dorm leader’s death had been all over the news. 

But nothing had prepared him for the funeral. It was just a small box. Even smaller than he imagined Riddle’s burned body fitting into. And the picture on top was his school photo—so prim and proper. So very much like Riddle, and so  _ very  _ aggravating. 

Azul, Jade, and Floyd had already arrived by the time Heartslabyul had arrived, though Trey chose to stay with them. Red eyes watched the three from the other dorm. Jade had a hand on Azul, comforting him as he stared blankly at the urn. It wasn’t hard to guess what he was thinking—it could have been him. It could have been  _ any  _ of the students who Overblotted. And what was likely lingering over him was that it could  _ still  _ be him.

Cater also had a blank stare, eyes focused on the urn in front of them. It was no secret that he had also suffered from depression—he was probably wondering if he would meet the same fate Riddle had. An emotional state so low that he died in anguish. Ace didn’t want to imagine what that would have been like.

Crewel arrived. And Trein. Even Vargas. But so far, no Crowley. Lilia arrived as well, though he didn’t really understand why. Kalim was crying. A long tail swung from a tree branch.

Ortho bounded up towards them, seemingly more excited than appropriate. “Do you mind if I stand with you guys?”

Ace shifted uncomfortably. “Uh...sure. Is Idia coming?”

The smaller boy shook his head. “No, he doesn’t like funerals very much.”

Brows furrowed tightly together, though he didn’t feel it was appropriate to question. Instead, he just glanced at the outfit that Idia had fitted for his brother. For someone who didn’t like funerals, he had certainly spent a lot of time preparing for Riddle’s. 

“Shall we?” A woman’s voice said over a microphone. His gaze moved towards her, taking in just how much she looked like her son. Her bright red hair was pulled into a braided updo which only made her look more gaunt than he would have imagined if it were down. The bags underneath her eyes were incredibly dark and he wondered if his matched—he hadn’t really been sleeping since the incident. “I’m so glad to see so many of Riddle’s friends here.” Those words punctured through him. Most of those here  _ weren’t  _ his friends. They were people that Riddle avoided, like the twins. Or people who just cared about  _ everybody  _ to the point where he was certain the redhead wouldn’t have thought of them as particularly friendly. Some he had never seen talk with Riddle at all. “As you all know, my son was a very special boy—”

The woman cut herself off, eyes widening as she stared past the gathering of people. She stormed from her spot and Ace followed her gaze, eyes landing on Crowley arriving late. Even through his mask, he looked incredibly guilty. His shoulders were slumped forward, his lips showing no sign of energy at all. 

“I  _ told  _ you you weren’t welcome here.” The woman snapped. “This is all your fault!” A hand moved to slap the other across the cheek, which the headmaster didn’t even try to deflect. He watched the other students make uncomfortable glances at each other, obviously unsure as to how it would be Crowley’s fault.  _ It’s not. It’s mine _ . “How  _ dare  _ you show your face here!”

“I wanted to pay my respects.” Ace had to commend him for how calm he was being, even if it was a shadow of the man who dished out punishments to him and Deuce.

The woman pushed Crowley, her voice shrieking as she yelled. “ _ No!  _ This is all  _ your  _ fault!” Even if the audience could only see the back of her head, it was obvious she was crying by the cracking of her voice and the way her body shook. The headmaster tried to put his hands on her shoulders to comfort her, but she yanked away from his grasp. “You should have been watching him! You shouldn’t have let him out of your sight!” Ace glanced towards Trey, who’s uncomfortable expression mirrored his. Riddle’s mother fell to her knees, placing her face in her hands as she continued to sob. “He was a  _ sensitive boy!  _ He needed to be  _ watched! _ ” The Heartslabyul students around him were one of the few people who knew how badly his mother had suffocated him. “I shouldn’t have let him go to that school in the first place!”

“That’s bullshit.” The words came out of Ace’s lips before he even had time to register what he was saying. He suddenly felt the eyes of the crowd on him, though nothing compared to the cold glare that the woman shot him.

“What did you just say?!” Her voice was like venom. The ginger stuck his hands into his pockets, at first a little taken back by what he had said, but quickly growing confidence.

“I  _ said  _ that’s bullshit.”

“And who do you think you are?!” The woman got to her feet once more, beelining for him with a fury that couldn’t even match Riddle’s.

“Ace Trappola.” He said, a smirk forming on his lips. “And you’re just proving you know  _ absolutely nothing  _ about your son.” This time, he was the one who got the slap, only making him smirk once again. “Riddle was fucking up because of  _ you _ .” It wasn’t until those words came out that he realized it really  _ wasn’t  _ his fault. Riddle had been teetering on the edge because his mother had suffocated him. He didn’t know how to navigate school, or people, or the enormous pressure she put on him. And he died for her mistakes. “ _ You  _ set him up for failure. Because  _ you  _ sheltered him so badly, he didn’t even know how to make friends!” The redhead moved to slap him again, though this time Trey caught her wrist.

Her blue eyes—much brighter than Riddle’s—stared at the green haired boy in shock. Her expression faltered slightly, and her anger made way for grief once more. When Riddle’s childhood friend let go of her wrist, she fell to the ground sobbing in front of him. “Just go.” She screeched. “Everyone  _ go _ .”

Ace almost laughed at how similar it sounded to Riddle when he died. However, as others began shuffling to leave, he moved towards the box containing Riddle’s ashes. He placed a hand on the smooth wood, lips pressing into a fine line.  _ I’m sorry I couldn’t help more _ .

The first-year turned to leave, though he watched as Trey stared at the box as well. Then, he moved closer towards it. Azul placed a hand on Floyd to urge him towards the box as well, though he pulled away from the octopus’ grasp. “ _ Don’t  _ touch me.” Ace supposed everyone was grieving in their own way.

The line continued. Crewel. Deuce. Cater. Lilia. Crowley. Even Che’nya had come down from his perch in the tree, though only a hand showed up. Red eyes glanced down towards the woman still sobbing in her spot. Ace closed the distance, making sure to stand a few feet away from her. “He was a good kid.” He offered, suddenly feeling bad for yelling at the woman.

“I  _ know _ .” There was still so much anger behind her words. The young boy nodded and dug his hands into his pockets once more before Deuce fell in beside him and the two of them left the funeral.

* * *

Even with Riddle gone, there were still rules that followed him everywhere he went. Crowley had offered him the position of prefect, and even though he had initially denied the position, he’d continued to press until he finally relented. 

It was strange to get ready in the very room that the former prefect had died in. While it was no longer distorted, the ink stain had lingered and Crowley had paid to get a new spot carpet—as if that was his main concern for rejecting the position. He glanced in the mirror, wondering how many times Riddle had done the same as he put on his makeup. Ace nearly drew the heart over his eye, but managed to stop himself in time.

Everything was the same except for the shoes. He’d tried for the good of Heartslabyul’s tradition to walk in them, but couldn’t quite figure it out. Ace had even cursed Riddle for making it look so easy. So, despite everything, he wore his red sneakers instead. He knew he had never  _ seen  _ another prefect, but those shoes had just represented the former prefect so well. It felt wrong to wear them either way. 

Ace stood up, letting out a deep sigh as he made his way from his room. He had tried to insist on them doing away with this tradition, at least for  _ this  _ coronation. There was nothing to celebrate. His appointment as dorm leader was shrouded in pain and loss. But Trey had insisted.  _ It’s what Riddle would have wanted _ . And it was true. There was no denying that if Riddle had chosen to stick around Heartslabyul as a ghost, he’d be ripping the boy’s head off for not following the rules.

It  _ was  _ a little ironic that the coronation was in the same place that Riddle had Overblotted the first time. By now the students were lined up at the tables, a feast presented in front of them, ready for the new dorm leader to step through. Trumpets began to play, signalling for him to open the doors.

He stopped for a moment as clapping surrounded him. Red eyes glanced towards Trey standing at the head of the table, awaiting him. The third-year gave him a reassuring nod, though it didn’t make him hate the situation any less. Still, he strode down the table, not making eye contact with anyone except Trey as he’d been instructed. But tears stung at his eyes, knowing that it wasn’t  _ supposed  _ to be Trey waiting for him. The tradition stated that the former dorm leader would be the one to crown the incoming student. There hadn’t even  _ been  _ a rule on what to do if the dorm leader wasn’t present—they were supposed to drop  _ everything  _ to be there. And so they guessed. 

Trey pulled out the ornate chair for him and he sat down, trying to look as regal as Riddle must have been. Deuce stood up from his seat, holding a pillow with Riddle’s crown on top of it. Ace stood absolutely still as the third-year grabbed it and placed it on his head. He closed his eyes, hating that  _ this  _ was how he became the dorm leader. He was supposed to fight Riddle. Or gain his respect enough to appoint him. Not like this.

As the students clapped, he couldn’t help but notice he’d never felt a crown so heavy.


End file.
